Shit. Miles' eyes fly open at that, moving to sit up. And then he immediately regrets doing that. He thunks his head back down against the floor a little too hard for comfort. "Right," he slurs, his mouth nowhere near catching with his brain. Or is it his brain that's out of sync? God, he can't seem to get himself together.

He tries to sit up again - and looks like he might throw up. That would be the worst reason to get caught here, bar none. A vomit trail telling the Cetagandans exactly where they are. "I know," he mumbles. "Shit. This is the worst timing."